Ratchet: Life After You
by wee.202
Summary: Clank is killed, and Ratchet can't get himself together again...  request from my best friend.  Note: For those who know the song, it's NOT a songfic. The name just works.


_"Ratchet, look out!"_

I gripped my bed sheets tightly as I recalled the worst day of my life.

_It was all a haze; the brief moment of relief when I thought we had taken care of all our assailants; Clank's yell of warning; the missile hurtling towards me. My body froze in shock. There was no hope for me to survive. Until Clank, my best friend, jumped in between it and me._

"No, Clank," I whispered out loud. "Don't." Tears carved a path down my face and began soaking my pillow.

_Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before the missile made contact._

I choked. I could never forget the last look of courage and determination in his eyes. And forgiveness. Somehow, he had managed to forgive me, even after I'd been such a jerk to him so many times.

_Pieces of metal and gears flew around me, my only true friend being shattered into a million shards._

"That should've been me!" I wailed into the darkness. "Oh God! Why couldn't it have been me?"

•◘•

I sat down on the edge of my couch, staring at the wall. Nothing to do. Don't want to do anything anyways. No appetite, even though I haven't eaten in three days. Can't sleep because of the nightmares. I know I should do something to occupy myself, but I can't think of anything to do. A sudden knock at the door makes me jump, but I don't get up to open it. Nor do I say anything. If they want to come in, they can. If they don't, they can leave.

I hear the doorknob turn. Damn. I was hoping they'd leave. The door cracks open and I hear a painfully familiar voice say, "Ratchet?" I don't look at Qwark as he enters. I don't say anything. Obviously it's me. I'm the only one that lives here…now.

"Ratchet, I've wanted to talk to you since your friend, what's his name? The little metal one?" I can tell he's looking at me, expecting me to respond or look at him or something. When I don't, he just clears his throat awkwardly and goes on. "When he, you know, got killed," _OF COURSE I KNOW YOU IDIOT! _I think angrily. _I WAS RIGHT NEXT TO HIM! _And then my anger is suddenly replaced by sorrow and I listen as Qwark goes on.

"I only wish I could have been there. I know I could've done something to save him. I could have gotten him out of the way of that bomb." I want so badly to say "It was a missile you idiot and he only did it to save me!" but I can't find my voice. I feel like crying again, but I hold it down and keep my face neutral. "I know you tried your best Ratchet," he said and put his hand on my shoulder. "But it just wasn't good enough." And then he pats my back and leaves.

_I know. I tried, Clank, I really did, but I just wasn't fast enough._

•◘•

I sat there all day and all night, my thoughts depressing me more and more. But they were true. I could've saved him. It should have been me that died. I would kill myself right now, on the spot, if it would only bring him back. But that's not the way these things work. It won't help him. I can't believe he'd do that for me. I wonder… would I have done the same for him? My automatic answer is yes, but now I have to think. Would I really give myself up just to save him? Would just one second of doubt have cost him his life when I could have saved him?

The early sun cast its weak rays through the window and onto the floor in front of me. I don't get it. My world ended. My best friend, my _brother_, had died. He's gone forever. How can the sun still shine? How does it have enough energy to keep going? How does anyone?

A bright light flashed and Orvus was instantly in front of me. _Not another one_, I thought and sighed inwardly. I have a feeling I will have many more visitors. Orvus sat next to me in the place Qwark did and sighed.

"I shouldn't do that. Teleporting takes so much energy now that I'm old." I almost wanted to smile. Clank's dad always had good humor. He got himself a bit more comfortable and stayed quiet for a bit. Then he said, "You know, Clank wouldn't have liked you to sit here moping over him. He saved you so you could continue your good work for the universe." I wanted to get mad at him, for saying what Clank would or wouldn't have wanted. He never knew his son. But I couldn't. I did know Clank, and knew that Orvus was probably right. This only made me more depressed. _He saved me so I can help other people, but I can't. I'm sorry, Clank, for disappointing you. I know you expected more of me._

"Ratchet," Orvus said, forcing me to pay attention to him. "That's not the only reason he saved you. He saved you because you're his friend and he loves you. He wouldn't have been the same person without you. And for that I thank you. I thank you for raising my son for me." And all of a sudden I realize, Orvus is crying. He's mourning his son, and how he never knew him. I feel pity for him. At least I was able to know Clank. As sick and twisted as it sounds, this knew realization that Orvus might actually feel worse than me, makes me feel better. At least I'm not him.

"I have to leave now," he says and gets up before I can say anything. He waves his time scepter and is gone in another bright flash of light.

•◘•

That afternoon, the door opened to another familiar, but unexpected, face. The Plumber marched into my house without even knocking. He looks at me.

"What? No wisecrack comment?" I don't answer him.

He looks around.

"I could fix up a lot of things in here," he says. "It seems like your transfluxuator isn't working quite right."

_What on earth is a transfluxuator?_ I think. _I didn't know anything in my house was broken._

"Anyways, I stopped by to drop this off." He put a small gadget down on the coffee table. "I think you'll be smart enough to figure out how it works." And then he walked out the door, leaving me to my moping once again. I ignore the gadget. I'm too exhausted to even try to inspect it. It's probably just something that will unclog the toilet or something. I don't really care. I don't care about anything anymore.

•◘•

Doctor Nefarious walked in my door at about 7 at night.

"So this is where you live?" he asked. "What a dump."

_Don't say anything_, I thought. _Nothing to say to him._

"So I heard one of my robots was able to kill Clank," he said in a nonchalant voice. "I promoted him of course." _God, I hate you,_ I said to him silently. "Too bad they weren't able to take care of you as well." Then he walked over to me and leaned in really close to my ear. It was hard not to move or show any disgust at his closeness.

"It's all your fault, you know," he whispered. "It's your fault he's dead. I told my soldiers to kill the squishy. You were their target. If you weren't here, Clank would still be alive." _Stop!_ I wanted to wail. _Please! Just stop it! _I had to refrain myself from crying. But still, despite my silent pleas, he kept going.

"You should be dead, Squishy. Not Clank. My soldiers would have let him be, if only they had killed _you_. You deserve to die, and should have a long time ago." And with that, he left me.

"God," I choked out, tears once again streaming down my face. "Oh, God. Oh God! He's right! I should be dead! I deserve to die. I'm sorry Clank! I should never have been born."

I jumped up and walked over to the armory, stubbing my toe on the coffee table as I went. I opened the door that I had opened many times before. Before, I had been getting something to kill an enemy, one of Nefarious's robots. Now though, the only one I'm trying to kill is myself.

I rip open the door and see row upon row of deadly, painful weapons, ranging from acids, to flame throwers, to bombs, and more than a few tasers. But those fancy things aren't what I am looking for. I stumble to the back of the room, where in an old, dusty corner that I haven't touched in years holds the one thing that I want: my Blaster. The very first gun I bought with Clank. I was 15 then. Ten years ago. Ten years. That's how long I've known Clank…

I picked up the Blaster. Brushing the dust off of it, I thought about when I bought it with him. We were in Metropolis. We were looking for Qwark then. We still thought he was a hero then. That's the planet where we met Al. A sudden surge of curiosity gripped me as I wondered why he hadn't stopped by. Oh well. _Who cares?_

This weapon came from the beginning of our friendship. Now… now it's going to be the very end. The bottom line. There will be nothing of us after it, there was nothing before it.

Slowly, I raised the gun. The end of the barrel rested beneath my chin. I heard the _click-click _of the gun chamber changing cylinders as I pulled the hammer with my thumb. My index finger began tightening on the trigger…


End file.
